I imagine you

pulling polished blades,
fulcrumed in oarlocks
smooth-silent,
that lift and drop
and cut
moon-ivory water.

your breath rhythms
to splash-slip
soundless seas,
unknowns
breaking surface,

iridescent arcs
of soar and shimmer
foreign in this air
beautiful in this air

and you pull ever
outward, everlasting
wrapping you
‘round shoulders,
back to front,

the way ahead
unseen.